


The Hot Wax Hypothetical

by grayseeker



Series: Untried [3]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Starscream, Dom/sub, Dominant Skyfire, Exhibitionism, Jealousy, M/M, Makeup Sex, Masturbation, Monogamy, Science Boyfriends, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-05-07 21:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14679666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayseeker/pseuds/grayseeker
Summary: Getting to "I love you" is great—but then what? Seekers have very particular requirements, and a chat with his ex leaves Skyfire wondering if he's got what it takes to keep hisownSeeker satisfied. A solo expedition to the outermost frontiers of fantasy might bring him the answers he needs.





	1. Empty Rooms

**Author's Note:**

> As always, many thanks go to my wonderful betas [Biting_Moopie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/biting_moopie/pseuds/biting_moopie) and [Dark Star of Chaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDecepticon/pseuds/Dark%20Star%20Of%20Chaos). You guys really helped me get this story to where it needed to go, and you both rock. <3

"Starscream?"

There was no response. Skyfire sighed. It wasn't the angry silence that he'd been half hoping for, half dreading throughout his flight back from the conference. It wasn't the silence of things waiting to be said. No, this was the other kind of silence; the silence of empty rooms. He pushed the door the rest of the way open and stepped inside, turning lights on as he went. A quick tour of his lab, the observatory and the sparse collection of rooms he called home confirmed his hypothesis: Starscream wasn't here.

Of course, he had no reason to be. It wasn't as if he lived here, at least not yet, though Skyfire had hinted at the possibility more than once. Starscream was likely still on the Migration, a Seeker tradition which seemed to be a glorified excuse to visit every drinking establishment in the hemisphere. Starscream had implied that he might bail early, but that had been before they'd argued. If Starscream _was_ back, chances were good that he'd be in his own quarters, sleeping off the after-effects with his Trine. Or with any number of the other rambunctious young Seekers who'd joined the event. Or perhaps he was at the baths, trading wing-rubs—and perhaps other favors—with some of the regulars there. Or…

 _Stop it,_ Skyfire told himself, quashing a wave of jealousy. It wasn't as if he and Starscream were exclusive. It was too early in their relationship for that. Would have been, even if Starscream belonged to a frametype that tended to monogamy, which Seekers did not. Seekers required the merging of three sparks in order to conceive, so even those who didn't go the traditional route by bonding with their Trines would still generally form multiple bonds, or simply have multiple partners. Skyfire's own frametype _did_ tend to form monogamous pairs, but he loved and respected Starscream just as he was. He'd never want to pressure his young love to adopt a relationship model that most Seekers would consider eccentric, if not downright unnatural.

Still, it was eating at him. Especially in light of Starscream's last words to him before they'd parted ways. That had been on the morning Skyfire had been due to leave for the science conference in Crystal City, and the Migration was set to begin. This would be the longest they'd been apart since their first kiss; therefore, Starscream had spent the night and they'd made love several times. Neither had slept much, so they were both groggy by the time they sat down for a morning meal in Skyfire's galley. That was when the door had chimed. Skyfire had gone to answer, and had found a messenger drone hovering outside with a sleek white datapad clutched in its grips. 

"What's that?" Starscream had asked when Skyfire had brought it back to the table. 

"An invitation," Skyfire had said with surprise, reading it over. "It's from my former mentor."

Starscream frowned. "Hyperion Flux? _That_ former mentor?"

"The same." Skyfire sank down at the table, still reading. "He's sent me an all-access pass so I can attend the _full_ conference, rather than just the panels to which I've been specifically invited."

"How very kind," Starscream responded dryly. "To what do you suppose you owe such a magnanimous gesture?"

"I don't know," Skyfire replied. "He's also invited me to join him for a meal at Horizons. Maybe he'll explain then."

" _The_ Horizons? As in, Crystal City's most exclusive restaurant?"

"I… suppose?" Skyfire didn't know much about such things.

Starscream's optics narrowed. "Who else is going to be there?" he asked. "Or is this a private meeting, just for the two of you?"

"He's congratulating me on my recent expedition to the Novium Cluster, and is hoping to discuss my findings with me. That's all."

"Discuss your findings, hmm? Then why can't he attend your conference panel, like everyone else?"

"I'm… not sure," Skyfire admitted. "Maybe he's hoping for additional details that I wouldn't discuss publicly."

" _What_ additional details? It was a routine survey!" Starscream shot an arm out and grabbed the datapad from Skyfire's hands. His features settled into a scowl as he scanned the message for himself, and he finally tossed the datapad back on the table between them. " _I_ think he just wants to get you alone."

"I can't imagine why," Skyfire said, staring at the datapad apprehensively. 

Starscream stared at him. "Really? You can't imagine a single reason why your _ex-lover_ might want to meet with you privately at an exclusive restaurant?"

Skyfire glanced up at him, and laughed. He couldn't help himself. Starscream's darkened expression, his hiked wings, his field bristling with suspicion… it was so… _funny._ And touching. And—surprising, too. It wasn't like Starscream to act this way, at least not thus far in their relationship.

"That can't be it," Skyfire replied at last. "That part of my relationship with Hyperion has been over for many vorns. He knows that, and we've both moved on. I'm sure it's just business."

"Oh, I'm sure it _is_ just business," Starscream agreed, rising stiffly. "Just don't be surprised if he expects a little pleasure on the side!"

He stalked past Skyfire, heading for the door, and Skyfire caught his hand. "Starscream—wait. You're not… _jealous,_ are you?" It was the only word he could think of, though he quickly realized it had been a mistake. 

Starscream whirled on him. "Jealous? Don't be preposterous! As we've previously discussed, you're more than welcome to frag anyone you want! _I_ certainly plan to."

He held Skyfire's gaze, as if expecting him to say something in return. His optics were ablaze, wings set at an attack angle, and Skyfire squelched an ill-timed surge of sexual hunger for him. Starscream was one of those mechs who really _was_ beautiful when he was angry. Skyfire knew far better than to say so, but that didn't stop his imagination from conjuring images of pulling Starscream to him, throwing him down across the table and fragging him until Starscream could think only of _him,_ and no one else. His hand tightened—but then rationality kicked in. 

How dare he even _think_ of doing such a thing? Especially without asking? Would Starscream see it as an attack? Would it make him angrier—or worse, frighten him? Skyfire was all too aware of the size difference between them, and the thought of scaring or accidentally hurting Starscream made him sick. He forced his fingers to relax, and Starscream jerked his hand away with a small "Hmph!" 

And that had been that. Starscream had stalked through the galley door and leaped skyward, shifting into tetrajet mode as he did so. The fading roar of engines had marked his departure, and that had been the last they'd spoken to each other in nearly four day-cycles. 

Why, Skyfire asked himself for the thousandth time, had he mentioned jealousy? He'd meant it teasingly, but it had been a foolish thing to say. They were both free to have sex with others. Sticky only, they'd agreed, since sticky sex was the form of interface least likely to transmit viruses, and with the understanding that they were one another's primary. They would always come 'home' to one another. Except… Starscream _hadn't_ come home. At least not to Skyfire's home. 

The message-light on the wall-comm was blinking. Skyfire felt a brief flicker of hope as he reached for it, but it died a swift death when the messages appeared. There were two. One was from a student who explained, in tremendous detail, why her assignment was going to be late. The other, even more disappointingly, was a notification about an upcoming staff meeting for the Academy's faculty committee, of which Skyfire was an unwilling member. Nothing else. Nothing from Starscream. 

_Maybe I should call him,_ Skyfire thought. He reached for the keypad but then stopped, thinking better of it. Even if Starscream wasn't otherwise… occupied, it would be unwise to pressure him. They'd had a few arguments, both before and after becoming lovers. This was by far their most serious fight, but Skyfire already knew from experience that Starscream would talk things out when he was good and ready. Not before.

"Would it help if I said you were right?" Skyfire asked into the silence. "About Hyperion, that is."

It hadn't seemed so, at first. Hyperion Flux had greeted Skyfire warmly, congratulating him on his recent expedition, and had kept their dinner conversation light. Skyfire had genuinely enjoyed himself. Perhaps not quite enough to forget his worry over the fight with Starscream, but there was nothing, he'd thought, like catching up with an old friend. He'd accepted the second round of drinks Hyperion had ordered, and then Skyfire himself had ordered their third round—which had arrived along with a shimmering pair of jellied-crystal desserts, which he hadn't ordered.

"I had a word with the kitchen earlier," Hyperion had explained, offering a faint smile. "As I recall, these used to be your favorite."

"They still are," Skyfire had replied, digging in without hesitation.

"Glad to hear it." Hyperion's optics lit with a warm glow as he studied Skyfire. He'd retracted his mask in order to enjoy the meal, and the soft radiance from their table-lantern cast his chiseled features in a serene light. He dropped his voice to an intimate murmur as he added, "I've been thinking about you a lot, you know."

Skyfire froze, a bite of dessert poised halfway to his mouth. "You have?" he asked, suddenly cautious. Hyperion's remark had been light and almost casual, but he was leaning a little closer than Skyfire would have expected.

"Indeed, I have. I've been watching your career rather closely these past few vorns," Hyperion said, taking a sip of hi-grade. He swirled the drink in his mouth, the cables in his throat fluttering briefly before he swallowed. His field carried an edge of something Skyfire would have identified as nervousness had it been anyone else, but then Hyperion set his flask on the table with a decisive 'clink,' as if he'd reached a decision. "I'm wondering if you would consider a proposal of… shall we say, a personal nature," he said.

"Personal?" Skyfire stared at Hyperion's drink, feeling uncomfortably aware of the after-effects of his own. He very much hoped the conversation wasn't going where he thought it was, because Skyfire wasn't sure he could handle it with two and a half shots of hi-grade bubbling through his system.

"Just think of it, Skyfire," Hyperion continued. "With the acclaim you've garnered through your recent discoveries, combined with my political acumen, the two of us could _own_ a conference like this. We could be a true power-couple, taking the academic world by storm."

"Oh." Skyfire studied his former mentor, feeling as if he was seeing him for the first time. He'd always known Hyperion was ambitious, but it had never occurred to him that he'd leverage a relationship in order to further his career. Or that Skyfire would be someone he—or anyone—would see as valuable for such a purpose. "I'm… in a relationship," he said, glad to have a truthful way of turning down Hyperion's offer without insulting him.

Hyperion gave him a startled look. "Really? Why haven't I heard about this? That is," he added hastily, "with the speed that news travels in this field, I'm surprised I didn't know." He took a hurried sip from his drink. "So who is this lucky individual?"

"A Vosian," Skyfire said, now wishing he hadn't brought it up. It wasn't a secret, but the reminder of how fast news traveled along the academic grapevine was making him wish he'd come up with some other excuse. 

"Name?" Hyperion persisted.

"His name is Starscream."

Hyperion raised a pale green hand to his chin and rubbed thoughtfully. "Forgive me for thinking so, but that sounds almost like a Seeker name."

"That's because it is."

"Oh." Hyperion dropped his gaze to his untouched dessert. "I do recall your attraction to them," he said in a low voice. "I think that became more than obvious the night we went to the Labyrinth together. It's a good thing I was there. I stopped you from making _quite_ the fool of yourself."

Heat rushed to Skyfire's faceplate. He'd thought about that evening at the Labyrinth many times, imagining scenarios of how the evening might have progressed had Hyperion _not_ been there to intervene. 

"Now. Obviously I _do_ understand the physical appeal," Hyperion went on, darting a meaningful glance at Skyfire's wings. "But Skyfire, I must ask—have you thought this through? Have you given consideration to what this could mean for your career? Your professional reputation?"

"I…" Skyfire glanced away. The thing was, he _had_ thought about it. He was ashamed at having done so, but it was true that Seekers, outside of their own cities, were known as the 'sky-scourge,' and were hardly considered suitable mates for anyone wishing to be thought respectable. "I'm aware of the impact it could have," he said at last, "but have decided that I'd prefer not to have dealings with any person, or institution, that would take issue with my choice of partner."

"Partner?" Hyperion tipped his helm to the side, studying Skyfire as if he were a lab specimen demonstrating some unusual, and worrying, characteristic. "Skyfire…" his expression softened. "Career concerns aside, I _do_ hope you're keeping this… relationship… in its proper perspective."

"And what might that be?" Skyfire asked, already knowing he wouldn't like the answer. 

"Well. You're obviously aware of their reputation," Hyperion said with an offhand wave, "but are you aware of their _needs?_ Seekers are known for having rather… specific needs. To phrase it bluntly, they crave to be _mastered._ It's part of their nature, going back to when they were originally created as servants of the Thirteen. I'm sure you noticed that yourself, during our visit to the Labyrinth."

Skyfire's mind flashed back to that night. To a chained, kneeling form, its bowed wingspan trembling beneath a downpour of a steaming, wax-like substance. Skyfire's frame heated involuntarily. That image was forever burned into his memory, and had fueled many a solitary late-night fantasy. He'd tried to set it aside, especially after moving to Vos. Many of his students were Seekers, and he wanted to be able to look them in the optics without feeling shame over his secret imaginings. He'd pushed the memory even further to the back of his mind after meeting Starscream, but now it was rushing back, full force. He jumped when Hyperion's hand settled on his arm.

"My dear Skyfire, don't take this the wrong way, but whatever you have with this… Star-scream… isn't going to last. I'm sure it's fun and exciting for now, but he's bound to grow restless. It's how Seekers are. Pretty things, but a flighty bunch unless you can truly pin one down, and—" Hyperion paused, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile, "I think we _both_ know you don't have it in you."

Skyfire tensed. He wanted to tell Hyperion not to presume. Certainly, he'd taken a submissive role in _their_ relationship, but he'd also been much younger. On top of that, Hyperion was a high-caste mech, and had also been Skyfire's mentor. Skyfire wouldn't even have considered taking a dominant role with Hyperion, but that didn't mean he was incapable. Or… did it? Skyfire's mind circled back to that last moment in the galley, and the odd flicker of emotion behind Starscream's gaze just before he'd pulled away. Had that been disappointment?

Hyperion patted his arm. "Just give my offer some thought. You deserve a relationship that offers a solid foundation for your future."

Skyfire had thanked him, saying he'd keep his proposal in mind, and had excused himself as quickly as politeness would allow. He'd wanted to tell Hyperion to get slagged, but that would have been unwise. Hyperion was highly placed in the academic community. He had a lot to say about which projects got funded and which didn't, and Skyfire had more than just his own career to think about. He had his students' careers to think about too.

But speaking of students, Skyfire had a class to teach the following day—not to mention a pile of marking that needed to get done. He'd planned on grading his students' assignments during the conference, but the panels had kept him unexpectedly busy. Deciding there was no time like the present, he started toward the chill unit, meaning to get some snacks to munch on while he worked. The sight of the galley table brought him up short. 

Starscream had been _right there,_ sitting across from him. Now there was just empty air, and Skyfire missed him with a longing so intense it stole the air from his vents. He ached for Starscream's voice, his laughter… everything about him, really, even his anger. What _would_ Starscream have done if Skyfire had acted on his momentary impulse? Would he have been enraged? Or…

Skyfire pressed a hand to the table, as if its cool surface might hold the answer. _Work,_ he reminded himself sternly. There was no point in speculating. He'd just have to wait until Starscream had recovered from the Migration, then sit down with him for a long, serious talk. All things considered, marking a stack of student assignments was a far less daunting prospect. He collected his snacks, headed for his study, and got to work. Or tried, though in reality, his thoughts kept wandering back to Starscream.

He'd never believed in notions such as love at first sight, but then he'd met Starscream. The idea that Starscream might feel the same way had seemed an impossible fantasy, but then Starscream had kissed him. The shock of that first, rushed attempt still resonated through Skyfire's spark like the echoes of a gong. That brief meeting of their lips had knocked Skyfire's world sideways, making him—almost—believe in the impossible. 

But a part of him knew it couldn't last. He couldn't shake the feeling of being caught up in a beautiful dream, one he'd awaken from at any moment. Yet in spite of all this, his spark dared to want more. He wanted Starscream all to himself. He wanted Starscream's declarations of love to mean what _his_ meant. Was that too much to ask, especially of a Seeker? Skyfire's rational mind said it was, but Hyperion's words continued to gnaw at him.

_They crave to be mastered. It's part of their nature._

Could Hyperion, for all his pomposity, be right? Did Starscream crave to be mastered? Skyfire already knew that Starscream didn't mind his dominant side. He had, in fact, dedicated serious time and effort to bringing it out. Had that been for reasons Skyfire wasn't fully aware of? Would Starscream grow restless if Skyfire could not—as Hyperion had put it—pin him down? 

Heat stirred in Skyfire's belly as he imagined Starscream's lithe form pinned beneath him. What would Starscream have thought of the Labyrinth, he wondered? Had he been to such places, or tried any of the practices Skyfire had seen demonstrated there? Without quite intending it, Skyfire shut the datapad he'd been reading and pushed it aside, along with the others. He leaned back in his chair, his hand drifting to his codpiece even as his mind drifted to a well-worn fantasy. Except this time, the Seeker involved had a name. A name he knew intimately.


	2. The Labyrinth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skyfire didn't want just any Seeker. He wanted the one who, in fantasy, knelt before him awaiting his pleasure. That Seeker was most definitely Starscream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks, as always, to my wonderful betas [Biting_Moopie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/biting_moopie/pseuds/biting_moopie) and [Dark Star of Chaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDecepticon/pseuds/Dark%20Star%20Of%20Chaos), with additional thanks to Dark for naming Surge for me. Perfect name, as always. I also want to extend a very special thankyou to [Sphinx01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sphinx01/pseuds/sphinx01/works) for generously giving me permission to borrow the breast-feeding mod featured in Chapter 2 of her story, [Arctic Mirage](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8788651?view_full_work=true).

Skyfire leaned back in his work chair, hands gliding up his inner thighs as his mind circled back to that night in the Labyrinth. He'd thought about it more often than he cared to admit. Not, of course, about having been there with Hyperion Flux. That part was better forgotten. It was the memory of that unknown Seeker that had captured Skyfire's imagination, and still, these many vorns later, refused to let go.

He could still feel Hyperion's hand on his arm as they'd descended the long flight of steps that led to Crystal City's sprawling underground. The gates of the nightclub known as the Labyrinth were guarded by a pair of minotaurs, each one taller than Skyfire himself. Hyperion had presented a pair of passes, and the gates were opened for them. Hyperion had then grasped the edge of Skyfire's wing, using it as a rudder to steer him inside, and Skyfire had felt his first jolt of real irritation.

He didn't mind his wings being touched. Not normally, at any rate. He loved having his ailerons massaged, especially as a prelude to sex. Hyperion's fascination with his wings had been one of the draws in their early relationship, but lately Skyfire had begun to suspect that Hyperion regarded him as some sort of exotic pet. The fact that he'd asked Skyfire to wear a collar for this evening's excursion—"You want to look the part, don't you?"—hadn't alleviated that impression. 

Skyfire supposed he could have avoided the wing-pawing if he'd allowed Hyperion to attach the collar's matching chain, but he'd drawn the line at that. For one thing, it would have necessitated locking the collar, something he'd felt uneasy about, and for another, the idea of being led around at the end of a chain struck him as degrading. Then again, being led around by his wing wasn't much better. Now, as they followed a torch-lit passage deeper into the nightclub, Skyfire found himself beset by a growing urge to yank his wing free.

The Labyrinth, in keeping with its name, was a maze of underground passages which connected a seemingly limitless variety of chambers, each with its own theme. One was filled with cages in which some individuals were imprisoned, while others fed them energon treats through the bars or 'trained' them with glowing, electrified wands. In another, a mech sat resplendent on a throne-like chair while others knelt before him in supplication. As Skyfire watched, the enthroned mech opened his chest panels, revealing an arrangement of coiled tubes filled with glowing energon, and beckoned two of his 'subjects' to approach. The kneeling mechs gratefully fastened their lips to the tubes and began to suckle while their master stroked their helms, murmuring words of praise.

"That's a mod that emulates mammalian behavior," Hyperion explained. "Apparently it's all the rage in certain circles. I'd heard about it, but haven't seen it in practice." He paused, giving the group a careful glance-over, then shook his helm. "This way."

He tugged Skyfire into the nearest passage. Skyfire followed, his earlier annoyance forgotten as he took in their surroundings. He'd heard about places like this, but had never imagined himself going to one. That was for people like… well, like the people _here_ , he supposed, except that—apart from a few strikingly unusual mods—most of them looked like ordinary individuals to whom he wouldn't have given a second glance if he'd passed them on the street. 

The same, it seemed, was not necessarily true in reverse. Skyfire noticed a number of admiring glances being cast in their direction. That came as no surprise. Hyperion Flux was handsome. A Convoy class mech, he had the long legs and broad, square chest characteristic of that frametype. He carried himself with a certain air of nobility that came effortlessly to high-caste individuals, and he glanced at their surroundings with an almost bored expression, as if he'd been to many places like this. Perhaps he had.

Skyfire, for his own part, felt the way he had on the handful of exploration missions he'd been able to join so far. This was a whole new world. He let it slide over and past him, a continual stream of unfamiliar sights and sounds. Hyperion's hand on his wing was a comforting anchor now, and he listened with interest to his mentor's running commentary about the various practices that club patrons were engaging in. 

"Doesn't that hurt?" Skyfire asked in a low voice, when they came to a room in which one mech was beating another with an electro-whip that spat lightning whenever it struck the recipient's plating.

"Oh, no," Hyperion replied, barely glancing at them. "The masochistic one _enjoys_ pain. For them, it's the same as pleasure would be for a _normal_ mech."

This comment earned them a venomous glance from the whip-wielding patron, though Hyperion was impervious. He was scanning the room again—almost, Skyfire suddenly thought, as if he was looking for someone. Suddenly, Hyperion's expression cleared. "Surge!" he called loudly, tugging Skyfire toward the far side of the room. "Fancy running into you _here_ , of all places."

A maroon-and-gold Praxian, who had been heading for the exit, froze at the sound of Hyperion's voice. Skyfire saw him settle his door-wings as if he was bracing himself for something. "Hyperion Flux," he said turning at last, his smile blinding. "Fancy meeting _you_ here! I never would have imagined this would be your scene."

"Then we can be surprised together," Hyperion replied affably as he closed the distance between them. "Oh, this is my student, Skyfire. And Skyfire, this is Surge. He's recently been named co-director of the funding committee for Crystal City's Academy of Sciences. He'd be an excellent person for you to get to know a _whole_ lot better."

Skyfire exchanged greetings with Surge—whose gaze, he noticed, lingered first on his wings, and then on his collar. 

"Well!" Hyperion added, beaming. "Since we've run into each other so fortuitously, why don't we celebrate with some drinks?"

"They don't serve intoxicants," Surge replied, his gaze still on Skyfire, "but I'm sure _something_ can be arranged."

They followed Surge to a large chamber that was obviously a social hub. There were no cages here, nor was anyone being whipped. Instead, there was a large, central bar, and seating booths ranged around the room's perimeter. Patrons were seated in the booths eating, chatting or watching the constant parade of fellow patrons showing off a dazzling variety of harnesses, mods, and other finery. 

Surge found them an unoccupied booth. Hyperion placed an order with one of the hovering server-drones, and the conversation swiftly turned to the intricacies of academic politics and difficulty of getting funding for certain scientific projects—particularly, Skyfire noted, a project that Hyperion himself was trying to launch. Skyfire suspected it was no coincidence that they'd run into Surge, and Surge clearly didn't think so either, though his gaze kept flicking toward Skyfire in a way that made Skyfire uncomfortable.

He distracted himself by studying their surroundings. There was so much to see here, so much he hadn't been able to contextualize just yet. The costumes; the food; the social dynamics. It was all fascinating. But as his gaze traveled the room, he did begin to wonder where all the fliers were. Crystal City wasn't known for its flier population, but there was certainly a high enough percentage that he would have expected to see them represented. Eventually, though, his wandering gaze settled on a doorway at the far side of the room. It was marked with a pair of wings flanking a single glyph: _The Aerie._

Skyfire reset his optics and read it a second time. The term didn't have a specific meaning as far as he knew, but he did know Seekers used in reference both to their clan units and their dwelling places. What was more, the glyph was in a Vosian script. Was that where all the fliers were? Curiosity piqued, Skyfire waited for a break in the conversation and offered to fetch some additional snacks from the bar. He'd noticed that some of the submissives—that was the term Hyperion had used in describing them—were waiting on their dominants rather than allowing the serving drones to do so, and he saw no reason why he couldn't fulfill the same role.

Hyperion was pleased with the suggestion. Skyfire rose and wandered toward the bar. It was a relief to escape the conversation, though he could feel Surge's gaze following him. _Just a glimpse,_ he told himself as he ducked past the bar, using it as cover, and headed for the mysterious door. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't want Hyperion to see him now. This was something private. Personal. 

The door opened at his approach, and he stepped through into a miniature version of the Labyrinth. Everything he'd seen in the club so far was reflected here, only in flier form. There were cages, though these ones were suspended from the ceiling. There was bondage, though wing-clamps seemed to be favored over arm manacles or leg-irons. And there were Seekers. Other flier types were present too, along with a handful of grounders, but it was the Seekers that captivated Skyfire's attention. 

He hadn't seen that many, and certainly not this close, since Seekers tended to keep to their own cities. Skyfire had always been fascinated by them. As a youngling, his favorite stories had been legends of the first Seekers, who were said to have performed feats of tremendous daring in service to the Thirteen. He'd decorated his roost with images of Seekers, and had never missed an opportunity to stand on the rooftop of his creators' home, watching the skies in hope of glimpsing angular, winged shapes darting against the stars.

On reaching sexual maturity, he'd begun to recognize his feelings as more than simple hero-worship. It was the forms of Seekers that had populated his earliest sexual fantasies, though he'd done his best to put those feelings aside as he'd gotten older. His creators had wanted him to find a suitable mate, and Skyfire knew, without having to ask, that members of the infamous 'sky scourge' weren't what they had in mind. 

But now, wandering through the _Aerie,_ his fantasies were coming to life all around him. Some of the Seekers were even glancing in his direction. It was a heady feeling, enough to make him forget all about Hyperion—and Surge—and everything else in the world. His instincts guided him to an area near the back of the room that was sectioned off by a set of dividers. That was where he saw him: _the_ Seeker.

He was in chains, kneeling on a low stage. Towering above him was a much larger flier, an Altihexian like Skyfire himself. Her spike was exposed, with some sort of ring device clamped around its base. Skyfire had seen other such devices in use, and assumed that they were meant to control ejaculation. She was stroking herself with one hand while with her other, she toyed with an ignited blowtorch. 

"Prepare yourself," she ordered. 

The kneeling Seeker's hands moved eagerly—or perhaps fearfully—to his array. Those patrons who had stopped to watch the action leaned in for a better look, though they needn't have bothered. The couple were surrounded by small, hovering drone-cams which projected images of them onto a set of large screens behind the stage. 

"That's right," the dominant murmured, twirling the blowtorch. "Stretch yourself for me."

Skyfire drifted closer, his attention torn between the projected images of the Seeker's fingers delving into his dripping valve and the sight of that blue flame arcing lazily through the still air. What did the big flier plan to _do_ with it? A part of him was afraid to find out, but then again, here was a member of his own frametype about to do… well, _something_ with a Seeker.

As he watched, the Seeker added a third finger to his valve, and then—on another curt order from his dominant—a fourth. He hunched, wings drooping submissively as he fucked himself, and Skyfire found himself at the very edge of the stage, leaning as close as he dared. He wanted feel the heat rising from the Seeker's frame and capture a whiff of his arousal, or perhaps his fear. His body was coming alive in a whole new way. He was so captivated that when steaming liquid began splattering down on the Seeker's wings, he jumped back with a yelp of shock. 

Glancing up, Skyfire saw that the dominant was now holding a block of something pale and wax-like in one hand, and was using the blowtorch to melt the substance over the Seeker's wings. The Seeker flinched as the molten material rained down, steam rising wherever it struck. After a few moments of this, the dominant set the blowtorch aside. She unclipped the Seeker's chains from the ring that anchored them to the stage and—to Skyfire's immense surprise—held it out to _him_. 

"Take it," she ordered, when Skyfire could only stare in response. "If you're going to stand there drooling on the stage, you might as well join us."

Skyfire glanced down. He was relieved to see that he hadn't actually drooled on the stage, though he was leaning far closer than could be considered decent. "I—sorry, I didn't mean to be rude," he stammered. "I was just… I mean… I'm supposed to meet someone in a klick, and…"

He trailed off, cowed by the dominant's calm, assessing gaze. She was glancing him up and down, though not in quite the same way Surge had. Her optics settled on his collar and her lips twitched in a knowing half-smile. She shook her head. 

"I don't think so." 

Skyfire couldn't tell whether she was referring to the collar, his statement about needing to meet someone, or something else. His attention was caught between the offered chain and the kneeling Seeker, who had settled back on his heel-thrusters and was watching the interaction with clear amusement. 

"You may consider yourself my apprentice for this evening," the dominant said. "I'll prime you on the proper training of Seekers; and _don't_ tell me you wouldn't like that."

Skyfire licked his lips. Could he _do_ this? His arm shook as he reached for the chain, but a pale green hand grasped his wrist. "He isn't interested," Hyperion said, pushing himself in front of Skyfire. 

The dominant cocked an optic ridge at him. "Are you sure about that?"

"Yes!" Hyperion snapped. "Quite sure." 

With that, he grabbed Skyfire's wing and began dragging him toward the door. Skyfire stumbled after him for a few steps, too dazed to protest, but then stopped. Hyperion tugged harder—and Skyfire flicked his wing, breaking Hyperion's grip. They stared at each other, Hyperion's optics wide in furious disbelief, and Skyfire felt something shift. Without a word, he stepped past Hyperion and left the club. 

That evening had spelled the end of their involvement. Skyfire was not a submissive, despite Hyperion's efforts to cast him in that role, and he _was_ attracted to Seekers, despite his own efforts to reshape his desires. His fantasies had, if anything, begun to feel more wrong to him after he'd met Starscream. The young Seeker who had brazenly challenged him during one of his lectures had been so proud; so defiant. He'd seemed anything but submissive, and yet now…

Skyfire curled his fingers around his codpiece, feeling the heat and pressure build beneath his plating. What would Starscream _really_ think about his fantasies? Would he be offended? Would he think Skyfire was objectifying him as a Seeker? Skyfire wasn't. At least, he didn't think so. He didn't want just any Seeker. He wanted the one who in fantasy knelt before him on the _Aerie's_ low stage, awaiting his pleasure. That Seeker was, most definitely, Starscream. 

There were no chains, at least for now. Starscream wasn't covered in the waxy substance, nor bound in any way. It was as if Skyfire wanted his imagined lover free to get up and walk away, should he feel uncomfortable with his new environment. There were, after all, other club patrons coming in and out of the room. Some were glancing in their direction, gazes lustful and curious to see what sort of performance was about to unfold. What was the giant shuttle about to do to his much smaller companion?

His fantasy version of Starscream was well aware of their presence. Like any Seeker, he had a hunter's instincts where it came to sensing movement. Skyfire saw his wings twitch in a gesture that might have signified alarm, alertness, or… something else, but Starscream's gaze remained locked on Skyfire's as if they were the only two people in the room—or, possibly, the universe. His optics flared like scarlet embers fed by the wind, his lips curving in a wicked little smile. 

"Why Skyfire," he said. "Imagine meeting _you_ in a place like _this_. Whatever would your work colleagues think?"

Skyfire, rather than answering, released his spike. He did so in reality as well as in his fantasy, opening his codpiece and letting his hardened spike rise into his palm. He curled his fingers around the shaft and stroked himself from root to tip, letting his fantasy lover see him in all his glory. 

"Open your panels," he said, imitating the way the dominant flier had spoken to her partner. He said the words aloud, testing them in silence of his study. Could he really order Starscream around like that? Would Starscream obey, or even take him seriously?

His fantasy-Starscream glanced around, taking in the gathering crowd, the hovering drone-cameras, the giant screens behind the stage, and… smiled. "If you insist," he said, and his panels retracted with a soft hiss, exposing his interface array.

"Spread your legs wider," Skyfire ordered, surprised at how naturally the words came this time. He suddenly noticed Starscream was wearing a harness. It was fashioned from heavy chains that glinted under the spotlight, and was fastened, by means of a tether-chain, to a thick metal ring attached to the floor. Starscream couldn't leave now if he tried, though he seemed unconcerned about that. He ran his palms up the length of his own thighs, spreading his legs a little wider.

He was already hard—and wet, too. That was no surprise. Starscream was the most responsive, easily-aroused mech Skyfire had ever been with. Not that he'd been with a tremendous number. _It's you,_ Starscream had said once as they'd lain together in the aftermath of making love. _I'm always hard when I'm with you. That's why you think I'm always hard._ Skyfire had laughed. He'd wanted to believe it, and almost did. Unimaginable though it was, Starscream wanted him. _All_ of him, and though it seemed too good to be true, Skyfire was beginning to accept that, just maybe, Starscream did find him as beautiful as he claimed. 

"More," he insisted. "Spread yourself. Show everyone here what you've got for me."

Skyfire was peripherally aware of their audience pushing in for a closer look. Starscream cupped his palms on either side of his array, and one of the drone-cameras swooped between his thighs to capture every detail as he spread the lips of his valve. If Starscream was aware of his glistening folds being projected on the screen behind him, he gave no sign. His gaze was for Skyfire, and Skyfire alone—and somehow, Skyfire suspected that part was more than fantasy. He could imagine Starscream responding in exactly this way, a notion that stirred heat in his low belly.

"Excellent," Skyfire praised, sliding a hand between his own thighs. "You may now prepare yourself for me."

As he spoke, he opened his own valve panel. The shock of cool air against his wet folds sent a delicious shiver up his backstrut. He drew his thighs apart, leaning back in his work chair and began doing as Starscream was in his imagination. He started with his external node, gliding his thumb over and around the sensitive bud with gentle, teasing strokes. The sensation was almost too sweetly intense, dragging a groan from him even as Starscream, in his imagination, let out a ragged gasp and writhed his hips, his hands motionless as he ground against them.

"Now stretch yourself," Skyfire ordered.

A playful light kindled in Starscream's optics. "Like this?" he asked, slipping a finger into himself. Skyfire did likewise, parting his own valve lips and pushing inward. 

"More," Skyfire demanded. "I said _stretch_ yourself."

Starscream's wings sagged, and with a theatrical sigh of resignation, he added a second finger. Try as he might, he couldn't entirely pretend not to be enjoying himself. His upper thighs glistened with trickles of his own juices, and his spike jutted from his lap so stiff and erect that its tip brushed his lower fuselage. His helm fell back, mouth dropping open, and the tip of a single fang caught the light as he probed himself. Skyfire arched his own helm back against his chair's headrest as he added a second finger to his own valve.

"That's still not enough," he told his fantasy lover. "I want to see four fingers in there."

Starscream gave him a disbelieving look. " _Four?_ " 

"You heard what I said. Stretch yourself _wide_ for me."

Another over-loud sigh. "If I _must."_ Starscream added two fingers from his other hand, rocking his hips forward. He was putting on a show for the audience without even once glancing at them. Skyfire copied his actions, pushing a second pair of fingers into himself. It was awkward. His knuckles clashed, and he couldn't penetrate himself deeply with all four at once, but he took delight in the wet sounds his valve made as he pumped in and out. A spreading warmth began to suffuse his lower body, his engine-hum rising to the note of arousal. 

"Very good," he told Starscream. "And now," he added, returning his hands to his spike, "I want you to get _me_ ready."

 _"You?"_ Starscream's optics widened in mock alarm. "But you're so _huge._ I don't know if I can handle all that!" He punctuated his exclamation with an anticipatory hip-wriggle, which Skyfire pretended not to notice.

"Suck me off," Skyfire commanded, stroking his own length. "Remember this will all be going inside you, so be sure to get it good and wet."

"Do I _have_ to?" Starscream asked pitifully, his chains rattling as he edged forward on his knees. 

"Unless you want me to fuck you dry."

Skyfire froze. Had he really _said_ that? But he had. The words rang heavy in the silence as he glanced down at his hands molded around the girth of his spike. 

_Am I really like that?_ he asked himself. He'd never hurt Starscream. He knew that much, but the fact that he was capable of saying something so harsh, so… _sadistic…_ what would Starscream think? Would he be horrified that Skyfire harbored such dark, primal thoughts about him? Or…

_Or._

His fantasy Starscream's optics had come alight with feverish heat, his hands trembling as he reached for Skyfire's length. As always, he needed both hands. This fact turned him on incredibly in real life, and Skyfire let the same be the case in his fantasy. He let his fears over what he'd said fade in a molten haze of pleasure as Starscream ran the tip of his glossa up the length of him.

Skyfire was far from dry, either in fantasy or in reality. His crown was leaking shimmering droplets of pre-fluid, which he swirled with his fingers while imagining Starscream's glossa doing the same. Starscream found his slit and worked the tip of his glossa into it, pressing inward with gentle, fucking motions. That was one of his favorite tricks, and it always had Skyfire writhing within nanokliks. It was a difficult sensation to reproduce with his fingers, which were thicker and less agile than Starscream's glossa, but he tapped the tip of his smallest finger against the opening. It wasn't quite the same, but his imagination filled in the remembered sensation of Starscream's slick, clever glossa probing him. 

He pumped himself with his other hand, imagining Starscream doing the same with _his_ hands. Sometimes, Starscream would slip a finger inside Skyfire's valve or toy with his external node while working his spike. That sort of treatment usually had Skyfire shooting his load into Starscream's mouth in short order, and Starscream, who knew this to be the case, reserved it for moments when they only had… well, a few moments. Such as the time Starscream had visited Skyfire's work office, crawled under his desk and serviced him before his next class was due to start. 

Now, Skyfire used one hand to play with his external node, imagining Starscream's nimble fingers pinching and rolling it while he pumped his spike with his other hand. He could feel the gathering charge, the pressure building in his groin as his body got ready to overload. When he was nearly there he stopped, dropping his hands to his thighs. He was shaking. His flight engines were revving so hard they made the chair beneath him tremble. For a moment he thought he'd spill over untouched, but then he remembered a trick Starscream had taught him. 

Skyfire grasped the base of his spike, squeezed firmly, and waited. When the impending overload began to fade, he let out a ventilation he hadn't known he'd been holding. This… was powerful. This was something… he didn't know. Would he ever talk about it with Starscream? If he did, how would Starscream react? Skyfire knew how he _wanted_ him to react, because in his fantasy, Starscream had rocked back on his heel-thrusters and was regarding him with the smug, pleased expression of a job well done. Skyfire, recalling a detail from the scene at the club, imagined himself clipping a mag-ring around the base of his spike. It locked on in much the way his fingers were in reality.

"There," he said as he lifted Starscream's chin, forcing their gazes to meet. "I can go all night, now, and _you'll_ have to take it."


	3. Inner Sanctum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Skyfire indulges his dominant side in fantasy, and wonders what Starscream would _really_ think of all this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for having taken so long to update! Hopefully, this will make up for the wait. As always, much gratitude and virtual chocolate sprinkles go to Biting Moopie, my awesome editor! Your suggestions helped me get this chapter to the next level. <3 Additional chocolate eggplants to Dark Star of Chaos for pointing out a rather glaring continuity error (now fixed). Thanks so much! (And be sure to share those with Skywarp, because seriously. He'll be sad if you don't.)

"Oh no, please no!" Starscream begged, twisting his chin in Skyfire's grip. He was eying Skyfire's spike in mock terror. "Anything but that! Please don't tell me I have to take it."

"I'm afraid so," Skyfire replied, stroking himself with his free hand. He was putting on a show, but more for the sake of his kneeling Seeker rather than the crowd that was pressing around the edges of the low stage, straining for a closer look. "You've left me no choice." 

"But… you're so _big,_ " Starscream protested, raising a hand to his forehead in an exaggerated swoon. "Do I really have to take _all_ of it?"

"You do."

"And…" Starscream licked his lips, as if he was still tasting Skyfire on them "…all night long?"

"Again, yes."

Starscream's wings dropped submissively. He sighed. "If I must." His lips twitched in a faint smile as he stared at the floor.

Skyfire knelt to pick him up. "You've done an excellent job of preparing me." He lifted Starscream, both mindful of his chains and of the way Starscream was melting into his touch. "Now. Let's see if you've done a good job of preparing yourself."

"An _inspection?_ Mmm, nice." Starscream nuzzled Skyfire's chest, then glanced up. "I mean, unhand me, you brute." He wriggled in an attempt to struggle, but Skyfire was well aware of the lithe arms and legs wrapping around him and of Starscream's erection poking his belly. This was a familiar game. Starscream loved being carried, even though he sometimes pretended otherwise. He delighted in Skyfire's ability to lift him as if he weighed nothing, and so Skyfire often indulged him by carrying him to the berth. 

Now, in fantasy, Skyfire was laying Starscream on a padded table that had materialized—quite conveniently—right behind where Starscream had been kneeling. It was hip-height in comparison to Skyfire's frame, making it perfect for what he had in mind. It was also equipped with… stirrups? Oh, and wing-clamps. Where had those come from? Skyfire guessed he must have seen a table like this during his ill-fated visit to the Labyrinth, since he couldn't imagine having come up with a detail like that on his own. 

Skyfire activated the wing-clamps. They folded smoothly over Starscream's wings, locking in place with a soft 'click'. Starscream's optics snapped open—and here, Skyfire paused his imaginings. What would Starscream think of this, really?

He'd never bound Starscream, though he'd restrained him any number of times. Starscream loved being held down, pinned in place, or simply ordered to grip the edges of the berth until Skyfire gave him permission to let go. Was that the same thing, though? A Seeker's wings were as sensitive as Skyfire's own. Binding them would engender an enormous sense of helplessness. Would Starscream enjoy that, or would it be too much? 

Skyfire leaned back in his desk chair, running his palms over his chest. In his fantasy, he was running them over Starscream's chest, following their path with kisses and murmurs of comfort and praise. Starscream was so brave, Skyfire was telling him. So beautiful. He was, in both reality and imagination, the center of Skyfire's universe. He continued soothing until he felt Starscream's frame relax. Only then did he allow his hands to settle on Starscream's hips.

"How well did you stretch yourself?" he asked, dipping his thumbs between the sleek thighs. Starscream whimpered in… was it lust? Longing? Fear? as Skyfire eased his legs apart and lifted his pedes into the stirrups. In reality, he set his own pedes on the edge of his desk and spread his knees, letting the cool air caress his wet valve. 

He imagined a collective gasp from the audience and sensed them leaning closer. Skyfire couldn't blame them. Who _wouldn't_ want a closer look at his beautiful, aroused Seeker? He didn't mind, so long as they knew their place. Unlike the real-life Dom who'd invited him to play, Skyfire didn't share. Starscream was his alone. Perhaps Starscream sensed that. His gaze was locked on Skyfire's as if no one else existed.

"Relax," Skyfire murmured. He adjusted the stirrups, spreading Starscream's legs as wide as they'd go. "My inspection will go more smoothly with a nice…" he traced Starscream's valve-lips—and, in real life, his own—with the tip of one finger "…relaxed valve."

Starscream whimpered, angling his hips to intensify the contact, and Skyfire withdrew.

"What?" Starscream demanded, glaring. "Am I not _relaxed_ enough for you?"

"Not by half," Skyfire replied, though he did relent. He parted the lips of his valve, imagining, as he did, the sight of Starscream's own beautiful cleft. He'd been enraptured by it from his first glimpse, his first taste, and he loved how Starscream took such obvious—and justifiable—pride in it. "That's better," he crooned, lazily stroking the wet folds. "Now for the internal examination."

He pressed two fingers into himself. Starscream's frame ran hotter than his own—a Seeker thing, apparently—so he let his imagination fill in the melting, furnace-like heat of Starscream's valve gripping his fingers. When he was two knuckles deep, he curled his digits, pressing against the forward wall of his, and Starscream's valve, until he found a slight bulge. That was the transfluid secretory, a part of the spike array. It was a delicious spot, and he knew exactly how much Starscream loved being touched there. He ran his fingers over and around it, massaging its ridged surface. As waves of pleasure started to build, he imagined Starscream writhing on his fingers, hips arching off the table as he tried to impale himself more deeply.

"Sky…"

Skyfire loved how Starscream said his name, especially when he was about to come. How his beautiful voice frayed at the edges, becoming ragged. How he sobbed and pleaded, as if Skyfire's hands, mouth, or spike had some mystical ability to transport him into ecstasy. Perhaps they did. He wasn't far off now, even with this gentle, preliminary touch. Skyfire pushed deeper, massaging his inner rings. He loved the way they clenched on his fingers, as if desperate to be stretched and filled.

"You seem relaxed enough," Skyfire said. "Now for the oral exam."

In his fantasy, he bent and licked Starscream's array, which was, indeed, very wet. In reality, he switched hands, caressing his valve with his second hand while he brought the first one, fingers dripping, to his mouth. He tasted nothing like Starscream—whose flavor was as intense as his personality, and every bit as unique—but Skyfire did his best to imagine it. He sucked his wet fingers, licking around and between them while, in fantasy, his glossa traced Starscream's folds. 

Skyfire's smallest fingertip became the swollen nub of Starscream's external node. He molded his lips around it, rolling it between his dentae and biting just hard enough to be felt, without causing actual pain. He followed this minor cruelty with kisses and gentle suction, and Starscream responded with rasping cry, griding against his mouth. Skyfire's own array sparked, warning of impending overload, and he drew his hand from his valve with a murmur of surprise.

He'd barely been touching himself. He'd been so lost in his imaginings that he'd forgotten to actually pleasure himself. It had been such a rush to imagine loving his helpless, bound Seeker that he'd needed little else to bring him to the edge of overload. This was potent stuff. He'd harbored such fantasies for most of his adult life, but he'd always imagined faceless, nameless Seekers as the recipients of his attentions, and his punishments. 

Imagining it with _Starscream_ was taking things to a whole new level. One that he might not be able to step back from. Even now, his mind's eye swept hungrily over Starscream's form. Starscream's optics were sealed shut, his fists clenched around the edges of the table as he arched his hips pleadingly toward Skyfire. If he was aware of their audience, he gave no sign.

"More," he gasped, writhing in his restraints. "Please…"

"In good time," Skyfire assured him. He glided his palms down the quivering fuselage, branding it with kisses, then straightened, looming over Starscream in a way he knew he'd love. "We need to pay proper attention to grooming, and _you_ haven't been waxed yet."

At this point, Skyfire wished he had something to drizzle over himself. He was familiar with the cosmetic buffing waxes that were routinely offered at most spas. Some of those did go on hot, and he'd indulged more than once, though he suspected this was different. He'd simply have to go by memory and imagination. In his fantasy, he had everything he needed right in his subspace. He summoned the block of wax to his hand, and held it up for Starscream to see. 

It was Starscream's favorite cosmetic variety, rich and fragrant, with a low melting point. It might smart a little going on, but it wouldn't burn. It liquefied instantly when when Skyfire held it to the flame of the blowtorch he now held in his other hand, and the wax streamed down hot and thick, like heavy rain. _Or transfluid,_ Skyfire thought as he watched droplets spatter over Starscream's fuselage, raising puffs of steam wherever they struck. Starscream gasped, optics taking on a wild look as he bucked into the downpour. 

"Please Sky," he whispered. "Oh, please…"

Skyfire smiled. "We have to be thorough." He carried the waxy drizzle across Starscream's wings, then down the length of each leg, letting him feel it over his entire frame. Even if it stung a little on impact, the overall sensation would be like being wrapped in a molten cocoon. When Skyfire finally ran out of wax, he was left with a gasping, steaming Seeker, who visibly struggled to find words.

"Sky… oh please, Sky…"

Skyfire combed his fingers through the wax, smearing it over the quaking frame. "Please what?"

"You… inside me. Please, Sky…"

It _was_ time. Skyfire pushed his chair back from the desk. He was painfully hard, and his thighs were wet, which made walking uncomfortable. Luckily, he only had to make it as far as his berth. He opened the berth-side compartment where he kept his toys, selected his favorite valve-stimulator, flopped down and flicked the switch. The v-stim hummed to life, spreading tingles down his forearm. 

Skyfire switched fantasies as he brought the v-stim to his face, picturing his glorious, aroused Seeker perched on his midriff, silver thighs locked around his waist. It was Starscream who was holding the v-stim, playing it over Skyfire's lips and throat, across his ailerons and then his pectoral slats, targeting each sensitive area with relentless precision. 

When Skyfire's hand came to his groin, he switched back to his previous fantasy. He pictured himself stroking Starscream's inner thighs while massaging his own. He eased the v-stim between the lips of his own valve and activated the telescopic attachment, sighing his pleasure as it extended into him. It adjusted automatically, shaping itself to his interior walls. The built-in mag-lock engaged, making the unit hands-free, and it began to throb and pulsate, spreading waves of liquid warmth through Skyfire's lower chassis.

Skyfire coated his palms with a few drops of warming gel and fisted the crown of his spike. In fantasy, his slick, heated grip became the entrance of Starscream's valve. A murmur of anticipation rose from the crowd as Skyfire nudged the tip of his spike into Starscream's entrance. He paused there, giving Starscream's frame a moment to adjust, though there was little need. Starscream was melting open, pulling him inward with soft, hungry moans of encouragement. 

Skyfire sank deeper, letting the slick heat consume him. He could vividly recall the first time he'd done this. He'd been so sure he wouldn't fit; so afraid of hurting or scaring his new lover that he would have kept his spike out of their lovemaking entirely if Starscream hadn't insisted on getting to see it. And then suck it. And then… well. Starscream had proved him wrong that night, and on many nights thereafter. 

Not only was Starscream able to take his spike, he delighted in it—which was why Skyfire was going as slowly as he was. He wanted Starscream to feel every inch. Every stretch of his rings as they molded themselves around Skyfire's thickness, and then… once Skyfire was fully sheathed… the sweet, insistent pressure of his crown against the ceiling node at the top of Starscream's channel. He wanted Starscream to know he was being claimed; possessed from the inside out.

In his fantasy, Skyfire's mag-ring had a vibration attachment. He reached down to activate it, then ground his hips in slow, torturous circles. He could feel tip of his spike working against Starscream's ceiling node, stimulating him from within while the buzzing mag-ring tormented his external node. 

"You're mine," Skyfire whispered, avidly watching the changing expressions on Starscream's face. It was just the two of them, now. Their audience had evaporated like mist, and they were alone. Skyfire leaned down, his lips brushing Starscream's audial as he whispered, "I love you."

"Sky…"

Starscream's glazed expression was a spark touched to dry tinder. Volcanic heat rose in Skyfire's groin, both in his fantasy as well as in life. He wrapped both fists around his shaft, pumping hard and urgent as he thrust into Starscream, fragging him in earnest. He wasn't going to last like this, but luckily, neither was Starscream. 

He knew Starscream's body well enough to feel the chain reaction begin. It touched off in Starscream's ceiling node as Skyfire rammed against it, a spark of primal heat that blossomed into a fiery ball of incandescence. It lifted Starscream's hips clear off the table, his hands flying to Skyfire's shoulders. His fingers locked down hard enough to leave dents, optics hazing from red to pure white. Starscream's mouth froze on a silent scream, which suddenly became audible as his body jerked, valve clenching cruelly on Skyfire's spike as liquid heat spilled between their bodies. 

The strength of Starscream's convulsions dragged Skyfire over the edge, a white haze drowning his senses. He was a tidal wave. An arching, writhing force of nature, his form shaped by the pleasure that was pouring through his circuits. He might have shouted. He felt his hips leave the berth, pedes digging in hard as he bucked into his own grip. His valve clenched on the stimulator as hot liquid exploded from him, splattering his chest and belly. 

When the firestorm finally left him, he collapsed. The room was spinning, and for a while he lay stunned, unable to move. When he came back to himself, he was lying in a twisted mess of sheets. Eventually he gathered himself enough to reach down and detach the v-stim. It came away with a wet squelch, and he fell back with a laugh, staring at the ceiling. 

What had just happened? He was no stranger to sexual fantasies, but the notion of having Starscream bound and helpless beneath him had been so _vivid._ So overwhelmingly erotic. What would Starscream think of such ideas? Would he be frightened? Horrified? Disgusted? 

Skyfire reached for a handful of mesh-wipes and began cleaning himself. As he did so, he imagined taking soft cloths to Starscream's frame and tenderly cleaning him from helm to pede, whispering praise and soft endearments as he went. Starscream did love _that,_ very much, and Skyfire never got tired of telling him how beautiful he was, how unique and incredible and unforgettable. Starscream would probably also enjoy having Skyfire rub wax into his plating after they'd made love. Was it possible he'd enjoy other parts of Skyfire's scenario as well? 

"I'll ask," Skyfire decided, saying the words aloud to make them real. They rang bold and firm in the silence, sounding perfectly confident. Who was he kidding? 

Skyfire sighed. He was too tired to think about this any further. He put the mesh-wipes away and lay down, pulling the covers around himself. It had been a long few days. Conferences were exhausting at the best of times, and that went double for a conference where he'd had to spend time with Hyperion Flux. But he couldn't regret their meeting. Not when it had led to such a vivid fantasy. One in which he'd banished Hyperion's presence entirely, focusing only on his beautiful, precious Seeker.

He pulled the roll-pillow against his chest and wrapped his arms around it, imagining it as Starscream. He whispered to it, telling Starscream how magnificent he was, how wanted and how loved. He wished Starscream was there for him to tell him in person. Tomorrow, perhaps, if he was lucky. He fell asleep to the imagined purr of Starscream's engines. 

When he woke, the sound had become more… tangible. More present. The berth dipped as someone's weight settled on it, and he let out a grunt of surprise as the roll pillow was drawn from his arms. 

"Hush, it's me," Starscream whispered, sliding in next to him. There was a clank of metal striking metal, and it was Starscream's turn to make a quizzical sound. 

He slipped a hand between them and picked up the v-stim unit, then smiled as his gaze traveled Skyfire's frame, taking in his exposed state. "I see you've kept yourself busy in my absence," he said.


	4. Where the Spark Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Starscream lets Skyfire know _exactly_ what he thinks of his fantasies. (Hint: His reaction isn't what Skyfire expected.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a very special thanks to Biting Moopie for doing a wonderful edit on this! Hopefully, I have managed not to introduce any last-minute typos this time. ;-)

Starscream set the v-stim unit on the berth-side table. "Did you miss me?" he asked, optics gleaming with humor.

"So much," Skyfire replied—but when Starscream shifted closer, he instinctively drew back. The v-stim was like a mute accusation, silently challenging him to fulfill the promise he'd made to himself… when? How long had he been sleeping? Could he really go through with this? Actually tell Starscream his fantasy and let the chips fall where they may? His gaze went to Starscream's, and found him frowning.

"Nothing… happened," Starscream said, his wings drawing closer to his sides as if to make himself look smaller. "I know I _said_ I was going to, but I didn't mean it."

"Oh!" Skyfire had nearly forgotten. "The Migration?"

"What did you think I meant?" Starscream paused. "Not that I didn't get offers, of course."

Offers, Skyfire's mind repeated. 

"None were… of interest?" he asked carefully.

"I've said it before, Sky. I don't frag drunk people. They're—"

"Sloppy, clumsy, and lack stamina," Skyfire finished, recalling an old conversation they'd had on the subject. That had been before Starscream had even kissed him, and Skyfire had been amused—and impressed—when he'd realized Starscream's true reason for avoiding drunken entanglements. It wasn't due to sloppiness or lack of stamina, but rather to the ambiguity of consent under those circumstances. Licentious though Starscream might wish himself to be perceived, he had an underlying code of ethics which he kept to like iron. He was, in so many ways, a walking study in contradictions.

"Not just that," Starscream replied sourly. "These _particular_ drunk people also happened to be morons. Drunk morons, Skyfire. Can you even fragging imagine? Have you any idea how tiresome that gets? One of them straight-out told me that he'd never heard of amphihilic surfactants and their long-term effects on Cybertronian plating! And another didn't know a single thing about diffusion coefficients!"

"Imagine not knowing such basic facts," Skyfire agreed, straight-faced.

 _"Right?"_ Starscream spread his arms in a slicing gesture. "I just spent four entire day-cycles with a bunch of walking, talking, _flying_ condemnations of Cybertron's educational system!" He paused. His hands dropped, his gaze following them to his lap. "That isn't it, Sky. That's not why I didn't frag anyone." His mouth twisted as if chewing over something he didn't know how to say. Finally, his optics rose to meet Skyfire's. "The reason I didn't frag any of them was because none of them were _you."_

Skyfire stared at him. At this stranger who perched, wings hunched, near the edge of his berth.

"Been saving it for you," Starscream added, continuing with his new trend of saying words that didn't make sense. "In fact, I might just keep doing that—if you don't mind."

"I…" Skyfire's mind had upended itself, his thoughts swirling around him like confetti. "But… you're a Seeker!"

Starscream cocked a brow-ridge. "And…?"

"And… you need variety! You need multiple partners in order to be happy, and to conceive. You have your Trinemates' needs to consider too, and…" Skyfire paused. "I couldn't ask that of you."

"You didn't ask. I'm asking you." Starscream's optics narrowed. "And as for what I supposedly 'need,' who have you been _talking_ to?"

Skyfire flushed. It was one of the hazards of having such a pale faceplate. He glanced down, but it was too late. Starscream, with a hunter's reflexes, snaked an arm across the gap between them and caught Skyfire's chin, forcing their optics to meet. It was so much like the gesture Skyfire had fantasized using on Starscream that his faceplate heated further still.

Starscream withdrew his hand. He sank back on his haunches, and Skyfire saw his gaze flick around the room as if he was seeing it—the tumbled sheets, the v-stim unit, Skyfire's exposed array—for the first time. "What about you?" Starscream asked softly. "How did you… make out… with your former mentor?"

"We didn't… No! Not what you're thinking."

"Oh?" Starscream studied him carefully. "There was no… _spark_ between the two you?"

Skyfire laughed. "None whatsoever." He told Starscream, in the briefest terms possible, about what had happened at the conference. Starscream's expression darkened when Skyfire mentioned Hyperion's offer to make Skyfire the second half of an academic 'power-couple,' and burst out laughing when Skyfire repeated Hyperion's comment about how Seekers craved to be 'mastered.'

 _"Mastered,_ hmm? Well, that depends on the Seeker in question, doesn't it? Much like anyone else."

"Indeed," Skyfire said. "I know, for example, that it isn't true in your case."

Starscream was quiet for a moment. "What if I said it was?"

Skyfire stared at him. At his proud, strong-willed Seeker; the lover who had boldly claimed Skyfire's lips and his body as if they were simply his due. "I… might not believe you," he answered at last. 

Starscream's wings rose, sketching a shrug. "Most wouldn't. But you know… when we were arguing the other day, and you grabbed my hand?"

Skyfire nodded.

"I thought you were about to throw me on the floor, and—"

"I'd never," Skyfire cut in.

"No, I suppose not." Starscream's lips compressed. "But just for a moment there, I was hoping you'd drag me to the floor and frag me so hard I'd… I'd forget my own name."

His voice had hitched on the latter part of that statement, and Skyfire felt a corresponding thump in his own chest, as if something inside him had shifted to make room for those words.

"You were hoping I'd… force myself on you?" Skyfire asked, wanting to make sure he'd understood correctly.

"Well…" Starscream's mouth twitched. "Not _exactly…_ but yes. Exactly."

_Oh._

"How… long have you felt this way?" Skyfire asked.

"Always. But I've never _done_ it. I mean, I've never let anyone get any stupid ideas about me. They're all—"

"Morons?"

"Precisely. But no, it's more than that. It's… _you,_ Sky. You're the first person with whom I've wanted it to be more than just an idea or a momentary fantasy. You're the first person I've ever wanted to make it _real_ with. And I'm not asking you to _do_ any of that," Starscream added quickly, holding up a hand. "I wouldn't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with. I just… wanted you to know. You're my first."

Skyfire edged closer. "You're my first, too," he said. First Seeker, first love. First ever to claim his spark. He curled his fingers beneath Starscream's chin, tipping it upward as he'd fantasized himself doing. His vents caught. He held them for a moment, bracing himself—and let it all out in a rush. He told Starscream everything. About the Labyrinth, the kneeling Seeker, the rain of wax, the dominant who'd invited him to become her apprentice for the night and learn about the proper training of Seekers. When he was done, he told Starscream about his own fantasy.

 _"Wing-clamps?"_ Starscream interrupted, when Skyfire got to that part. 

"Yes, like the kind they use in—" Skyfire broke off, his face heating again. The only places he'd heard of them being used, besides his club fantasy, were too disturbing to mention. "I'm sorry," he said. "I won't bring it up again, it's just—"

Starscream was suddenly in his arms, mouth covering his in a hard kiss. "Would you… _arrest_ me?" he asked urgently, his thighs locking around Skyfire's waist in a gesture that was, in equal measures, both yielding and possessive.

"If you wanted me to," Skyfire managed to reply before Starscream claimed his mouth again. Inwardly, his spark soared. How was it possible that Starscream wanted what he did? Yet how could he have missed it? He'd never dared to make inferences about Starscream demanding Skyfire's weight on top of him when they fragged, or about Starscream crawling under his desk to suck him off between classes. This wasn't new. The clues had been there all along, he'd just never put the pieces together. Until now.

"You never did answer my question," Starscream said eventually. He snuggled closer, making a soft, appreciative sound as their groins met. 

"Which… which question was that?" Skyfire asked. His exposed spike had begun to stir, and he felt he was losing track of the conversation. 

"Whether you would mind if I kept saving everything for you. That is," Starscream added, wriggling against Skyfire's burgeoning erection with obvious delight, "if you think you can handle having me all to yourself. I'm sure you've noticed by now that I'm insatiable."

Skyfire laughed. He'd definitely noticed. "I think can handle it," he whispered. "Would you mind if I did the same?"

"Saved _this_ for me?" Starscream asked, sliding a hand between their frames. "All of it?" He gave Skyfire's spike a light squeeze. "I _suppose_ I can fit this in. To my… schedule, among other things."

"I suppose you'll have to," Skyfire replied, trying for a stern tone even as he nudged into Starscream's wonderful, teasing grip. "But," he added, "there is one thing you need to understand."

"And what's that?" Starscream murmured, nipping at his throat.

Skyfire captured Starscream's jaw and forced their gazes to meet. "You need to understand that I would _never_ have thrown you on the floor."

Starscream's expression fell. "I—I know," he said, too quickly. "I wouldn't ask you to do anything you wouldn't feel right abou—"

Skyfire seized his arms and threw him down on the berth. Starscream landed with a startled "Oof!" followed by half-stifled laughter, and then… and then… oh. The way his expression shifted when Skyfire slung a leg over him, pressing him down beneath his weight. Skyfire gathered both of Starscream's wrists into one large hand and pinned them above Starscream's helm. He paused, basking in the perfection of this moment. This moment, in which everything was about to change.

Or… not. 

How many times had they done this? Been in these exact positions? Too many to count, yet now it had a new, secret meaning, and they both sensed that. It was there in the curl of Starscream's lips, the burn of his optics in the dark, the slight tremor that ran through his frame as Skyfire leaned over him. 

"I'd never have thrown you on the floor because—" Skyfire tightened his grip "—I'd have thrown you across the table."

He waited, letting Starscream absorb the full weight of his helplessness. When Starscream's frame had subsided, Skyfire trailed his free hand down the side of Starscream's throat. Starscream arched with a whimper, imprinting Skyfire's palm with the flicker of his heightened spark-pulse. Skyfire nuzzled the vulnerable, exposed cables, nipping softly, but then turned Starscream's face towards his.

"If I do anything you don't like," he said, "anything at all, you _will_ tell me to stop."

Starscream's full bottom lip caught between his fangs as he nodded. Skyfire desperately wanted to bite that lip himself but he held back, waiting for a verbal response.

"I will," Starscream promised. "But—what if I want to _say_ stop, but I don't really mean it?"

"You mean…" Skyfire pondered the question, taking a moment to untangle its meaning. "You want to _beg."_

"I… might, yes."

"Ah." The idea was more than appealing. Skyfire thought of his fantasy and how Starscream had begged then, acting as if Skyfire's spike terrified him. "What if we used a code phrase?"

"Like… a password?"

"Yes."

"It would have to be something neither of us would say by accident."

"That's true." Skyfire glanced around the room, looking for inspiration. His gaze fell on a star-chart. "What about 'red dwarf?'" 

"No means yes, and red dwarf means stop?"

"Exactly. And now," Skyfire said, trailing his free hand over Starscream's chest-canopy, "it seems I've got you just where I want you. Whatever _shall_ I do with you?"

Starscream's vents stuttered. His dark features had flushed a deeper shade of charcoal and, as Skyfire watched, the tip of his glossa darted out, restlessly tracing his lips. "Anything you want, Sky. Anything."

Skyfire's spark flipped. How was it possible for him to fall more deeply in love with his Seeker? Yet he just had. _I can give him so much,_ Skyfire thought. So much pleasure that Starscream couldn't get, or simply wouldn't accept, from anyone else. 

He didn't need wing-clamps for this. Nor the Labyrinth, or the hot wax, or… anything. There would be time for all that later, of course. Time to explore and experiment. For now, though, all they needed was this. This taut, shivering bond that he felt unfurling between their locked gazes. This had been theirs all along. He knew it was all they would ever truly need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In addition to my usual acknowledgments, I'd like to extend extra thanks to Jess and Ulstercycle for your insightful comments on Chapter 2. Our discussion influenced how I ended up writing this final chapter, and much for the better. I don't say this often enough, but I'm in awe of the smart, thoughtful people I'm lucky enough to have as readers. It's a great honor. Thank you. <3

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
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>   * Short comments
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> **Author Responses** : This author replies to comments. If you don’t want a reply, for any reason (sometimes I feel shy when I’m reading and not up to starting a conversation, for example), feel free to sign your comment with "whisper" and I will appreciate it but not respond!  
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